[ Luckily for Nic, Dagger's an honorable liar most of the time; the
tags are in his possession, jangling around his neck when he lets the doors
slide open. ]
[ nic's eyes hone in on those tags, glinting against dagger's chest like some kind of visual slap in the face. nic can feel a foolish anger bubble up inside him, but he manages to stamp it down and keep most of it off his face. he shifts anxiously, fingers tightening around the jar as he lifts it, fitting nicely in his palm. in the now-murky water of the jar sits two perfectly intact eyeballs, irises a rich brown color.
he hadn't looked to see if dagger's lips had moved in a way he'd understand, too focused on the chain hanging around the instructor's neck. ]
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[ Luckily for Nic, Dagger's an honorable liar most of the time; the tags are in his possession, jangling around his neck when he lets the doors slide open. ]
Yo. Where are my eyeballs.
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he hadn't looked to see if dagger's lips had moved in a way he'd understand, too focused on the chain hanging around the instructor's neck. ]